


my love language is you

by renecdote



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Emojis as a love language, First Kiss, Fluff, Get Together, M/M, Oblivious Buck, Pining, Texting, seriously he's so dumb I love him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:54:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28121202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renecdote/pseuds/renecdote
Summary: Halloween passes in a flurry of busy nights and then its November and Buck has been sending his best friend kissing emojis for two and a half months. Apparently—according to Maddie and Hen and all their friends—that means something. Buck keeps meaning to bring it up to Eddie, but every time he tries, he can’t find the words. He lies awake instead, scrolling back through their messages, and yeah, okay, some (most) of it is more than a little flirty. He can see that. But. Was it meant to be?Does he want it to be?Buck starts sending Eddie kiss emojis. Somehow, he's still the last one to realise he is in love with his best friend.
Relationships: Eddie Diaz/Evan "Buck" Buckley
Comments: 76
Kudos: 494





	my love language is you

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a dumb idea about Buck and Eddie sending each other kiss emojis and everyone assuming that means they're dating but then it took on a life of its own and and now it is.... whatever this is. 
> 
> Edited very quickly so sorry if I missed any mistakes or if it just straight up doesn't make sense lol

The first time is an accident. The smiling emoji is about four down in his recently used and when Buck goes to add it to a message to Eddie, his thumb bumps the one next to it instead. He doesn’t realise until ten minutes later; after he has sent the message and put the phone down and then opened the app back up to read Eddie’s reply when it comes through. There, in the bubble of blue above Eddie’s simple **ok see you tomorrow** , is the kiss emoji.

Buck winces. **Oops** , he starts to type, **I meant...**

But then he stops, realising that Eddie didn’t make a comment about it. No friendly teasing, no awkward joke, no passive aggressive or dismissive reply. Buck’s fingers tap an anxious rhythm against the side of his phone. Maybe Eddie didn’t notice? Maybe he just assumed it was a mistake? Or—maybe he thought Buck meant it, but didn’t see anything weird about it?

Is it weird? To send kiss emojis to your best friend? Buck is halfway to opening up a message to Maddie to ask before he stops. No. No, if it isn’t weird, then asking whether it is weird will definitely make it so.

Eddie probably just assumed it was a mistake. That would make the most sense. If Buck draws attention to it now, it’s just going to be awkward. No, better to just leave it. It doesn’t mean anything anyway.

—//—

Except, well, it keeps happening.

—//—

The second time is... sort of an accident. Buck is trying to send a thumbs up this time and does the same thing, thumbs moving so quick as he types that he taps the wrong emoji. But this time he notices before he hits send and he just... doesn’t change it. It’s been a week since the first accidental kiss and neither of them have mentioned it. There was no awkwardness when he saw Eddie at work the next day; they were just as in sync as always, their conversations just as easy. Buck could almost forget his text slip-up, except for how he can’t stop thinking about it.

So the third time, it’s deliberate. Eddie sends him a text complaining that Christopher has been singing the Pinky and The Brain theme non-stop since Buck introduced him to Animaniacs the last time he looked after the kid. **I love my kid** , Eddie says, **but it’s driving me crazy**. Buck grins at his phone as he types **You’re welcome** 😘.

He gets a volley of angry orange emojis in response. It’s such a normal response and, again, there is no comment about the kiss. Sure, this time it makes a little more sense; his reply is clearly meant to be teasing, the kiss only adds to that. But… Well… Maybe Buck wants a reaction? A sign that Eddie likes it or hates it or—he doesn’t know. Maybe he wants Eddie to acknowledge that it’s a joke. Maybe he wants Eddie to tell him to stop.

Maybe he wants Eddie to send him one back?

Just so he knows it’s not weird, of course.

Buck doesn’t know what he wants and Eddie doesn’t tell him to stop, so he keeps doing it. Finds himself doing it more often, actually. It’s a deliberate choice at first, but then it just becomes habit. The kiss emoji jumps up the ranks to become his most used. It makes even the most simple of his messages to Eddie heartfelt or sarcastic or flirtatious, depending on the context. Eddie must notice—there’s no way he can’t when sometimes Buck’s only reply will be three big kisses—but he still doesn’t say anything.

He probably thinks Buck is joking. Half the time, it can definitely be read that way. At some point, Eddie starts sending them back as well. Only sometimes, and in a way that is definitely sarcastic, but still. There is this feeling in Buck’s chest every time it happens; this light, squirming feeling that makes him grin like a fool at his phone. He doesn’t analyse it too closely, not even when he adds a kiss emoji next to Eddie’s name in his contacts.

It’s just a joke. A tiny amusement just for himself—and Eddie, he supposes.

It definitely doesn’t mean anything.

—//—

Hen is the first to notice. It’s been just over a month since the first accidental kiss emoji and Buck has stopped thinking it’s weird. He may or may not have lost himself down a rabbit hole of Reddit threads one night, hungrily reading opinions on whether or not sending your friends love emojis is normal. The consensus is yes. It’s more common among women, but it’s definitely not weird, and it can definitely be platonic.

(He got lost down another research rabbit hole from there, learning about aromanticism and queerplatonic relationships and amatonormativity. The world really is geared toward love-tinted glasses, it’s crazy.)

It’s been a slow shift, made even slower because Eddie isn’t at work. Buck is stretched out on one of the couches in the loft, mindlessly scrolling through Facebook videos, when Hen join him. She graciously hands him a cookie off the plate she’s holding and Buck graciously lets her watch cute kitten videos with him in return. It’s quiet and easy and Buck is idly wondering whether he should go have a nap or if that will jinx the slow day.

One video slides automatically into another. An adorable ginger kitten has just discovered the wonder of snowflakes when the text comes through in a banner at the top of the screen.

 **Eds** 😘 **: Hey are you coming over after...**

Only the first part of the message is visible before it disappears, but the quick glimpse Hen gets is enough for her eyebrows to raise. Then her face crinkles with a soft smile and she bumps their shoulders together.

“Good for you, Buckaroo,” she says, which doesn’t make any kind of sense, even when she follows up with an almost hesitant, “Does Bobby know?”

“Know what?” Buck is distracted, opening the message so he can reply, letting Eddie know he’ll be there at seven-thirty with takeout for dinner. There’s a new Thai place not far from Eddie’s house that they’ve been talking about ordering from for weeks. Thai food isn’t Buck’s favourite, he can take it or leave it really, but Eddie loves it.

“About you and Eddie.”

Buck frowns. What? Why would Bobby need to know that Buck is going over to Eddie’s place after his shift? They do it all the time.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says.

“You and Eddie,” Hen repeats, like it should be obvious. “Bobby won’t care, you know. He’ll make you fill out all the workplace relationship paperwork for HR, but you two are a good team, you work well together, as long as that doesn’t change he’s not going to split you up.”

Buck stares at her. A beat, and then it clicks. “You think Eddie and I are _dating_?”

Hen’s smile is encouraging. “The rest of us won’t care either. I’m not saying you have to announce it to the world, but you don’t have to hide it. It’s not like we didn’t all seeing it coming.”

Buck feels like he’s stuck ten steps behind in an unfamiliar dance. “What?”

Hen looks pointedly down at Buck’s phone and Buck follows her gaze. It’s still unlocked, his and Eddie’s text chain open on the screen, but that’s nothing special, just plans for dinner tonight, what could have given her the impression that they’re—

_Oh._

Eddie’s contact name.

Buck shakes his head. “No, it’s just a joke, we haven’t—I mean we don’t—we’re _friends_ —”

“Right.” Hen draws the word out, looking doubtful. Whatever she sees on Buck’s face must convince her though because she shakes her head as she stands, patting him on the shoulder. “Well, you let me know when you figure it out.”

Figure it out? What?

“Hen, wait—Hen—what—”

—//—

Maddie punches him in the shoulder the next time they see each other. It’s not hard, definitely not hard enough to hurt, but Buck rubs at his arm like he’s been mortally wounded. “What the hell, Maddie?”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” she says, offended. “You’re my brother, I’m not supposed to find out about your love life through my boyfriend.”

Love life? What the hell?

“I don’t know what Chimney told you, but it’s not true.”

Maddie looks disbelieving. “You put a little kissing face next to the guy’s name in your contacts, Evan, you’re not exactly being subtle.”

Oh. Oh this is about _Eddie._ Buck shakes his head. “It’s not like that. We’re just friends.”

Somehow, Maddie manages to look even more disbelieving.

“We are,” Buck insists—maybe too harshly, because Maddie’s face falls immediately into sympathy.

“Is that what you want?” she asks. It’s more gentle than anything else she has said tonight and Buck hates the way it needles at his skin. He doesn’t say anything. Maddie squeezes his hand. “You should tell him.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

And Buck tells himself it’s the truth, that he doesn’t know what she’s talking about, but even after he leaves he can’t stop thinking about it.

—//—

Halloween passes in a flurry of busy nights and then its November and Buck has been sending his best friend kissing emojis for two and a half months. Apparently—according to Maddie and Hen and all their friends—that means something. Buck keeps meaning to bring it up to Eddie, but every time he tries, he can’t find the words. He lies awake instead, scrolling back through their messages, and yeah, okay, some (most) of it is more than a little flirty. He can see that. But. Was it meant to be?

Does he _want_ it to be?

It’s possible that Buck is having a crisis about this. Not about his sexuality—that hasn’t been in question since he was fifteen years old, sneaking off to make out with Jack Ellington after baseball games—and not even about it being Eddie, really. It’s just. Does Eddie _know_ that they’ve basically been flirting for two and a half months? Longer, even, if Buck wants to be brutally honest.

Everyone’s comments have wormed their way into his ear. He thinks about it—agonises over it—almost constantly, but he still doesn’t talk to Eddie about it. He tells himself it’s just because he doesn’t know how. Not because… Not because he’s afraid of rejection, or anything. He doesn’t—he’s been rejected plenty of times, okay, and he can handle it fine. It’s just—

It’s Eddie.

“He’s your best friend,” Maddie says, patiently, reasonably.

But Buck shrinks away from the topic because she doesn’t get it. None of them get it. Eddie is his _best friend._ That’s the entire problem.

So November eases into December and Buck still doesn’t talk to Eddie. He does keep sending the kiss emojis though, and he keeps getting them back, and apparently everyone knew he was in love with his best friend before he did, but that’s cool. That’s fine. It doesn’t have to change things. Things are good. Buck is good. Everything is good.

No, really, it’s all good.

—//—

**Buck: Ugh**

**Eds** 😘 **: ?**

**Buck: I hate flu season**

**Eds** 😘 **: Are you sick? I told you it would get you too**

**Buck: no my immune system is still amazing but I’ve worked so many double shifts covering everyone else that I can’t remember what my apartment looks like**

**Buck: ……I may or may not have just walked right into the dining table bc my brain forgot how close to the kitchen it was**

**Eds** 😘 **: I’m not saying I’m laughing at you but**

 **Eds** 😘 **: I’m laughing at you**

 **Buck:** 😕

 **Eds** 😘 **: Seriously though please get some sleep, I know you’re working again tomorrow**

**Buck: fiiine**

**Buck: but only because I was going to bed anyway**

**Buck: goodnight Eds**

**Eds** 😘 **: Goodnight Buck**

**Buck: love you**

—//—

Buck sleepwalks his way through a shower and brushing his teeth and then he’s falling into bed, squinting against the brightness of his phone to set an alarm. He doesn’t start his next shift until noon but if he gets up early enough, he’ll have time to go grocery shopping and swing by Eddie’s place. Christopher has been sick since Sunday and Eddie since Tuesday, and he knows they have Pepa and Carla and Eddie’s abuela to check in on them and make sure they have everything they need, but maybe he should…

He falls asleep still thinking about it. And in the morning he gets up and does his grocery shopping and an hour and half later he is letting himself into the Diaz house with his spare key. Christopher is sitting on the couch, wrapped snug in a Superman blanket, listlessly watching the cartoons playing quietly on the television. He brightens when he sees Buck, but only marginally.

“Hey, buddy,” Buck smiles, gently tousling the kid’s curls. “How are you feeling?”

Chris just shrugs, sniffling. Pretty miserable, Buck translates. He hugs Chris, kissing the top of his head before pulling away. “Where’s your dad?”

“Here.”

Buck turns and finds Eddie coming in from the hallway. His hair is a tangled mess and he’s wearing a thick hoodie with his pyjama pants. He looks tired and sick and the kind of miserable only people with a bad case of the flu can look, but his smile reaches his eyes as he croaks, “Hey.”

Buck winces in sympathy. “You sound terrible.”

That gets him a huff and an eye roll and it probably would have gotten a sarcastic retort too if Eddie hadn’t started coughing. Buck takes an aborted half-step toward him, not sure what exactly he can do but feeling like he should help. He ends up just standing there uselessly until Eddie catches his breath and then he says, “Here, let me—”

But Eddie waves away the hand that tries to help him and stumbles to the couch under his own, slightly wobbly, power. Chris curls into his dad’s side immediately and Eddie puts an arm around his son, hugging him closer. Buck is struck by a sudden feeling of—something. Something so sweet it’s almost painful.

 _Love,_ the Maddie-like voice in his head supplies.

Some of it must show on his face because when Eddie looks back up he asks, “What?”

Buck shakes his head. “Nothing. I’m going to make you some tea.”

He escapes to the kitchen before Eddie can complete his protesting, “You don’t have to….”

It’s not hiding. Hiding implies that he is hiding from something, which he isn’t. He’s just…

Making tea.

That’s what he’s doing.

Buck is back in the living room five minutes later, pressing a mug of warm green tea into Eddie’s hands and holding it still until he is sure Eddie’s grip is steady. Eddie grabs his wrist before he can pull away, fingers hooking around Buck’s sleeve. His eyes are fever bright and, not that Buck would ever mention it, just the slightest bit teary.

“For the record,” he says quietly. “I love you too.”

—//—

So Eddie loves him. That’s cool, Buck loves Eddie too. It still doesn’t change anything. Friends tell friends they love each other, he doesn’t need another Reddit deep dive to tell him that. Take Karen, for instance—she’s not even among the closest of Buck’s friends, but just last week he told her he loved her over something as simple as delicious homemade muffins, warm and cinnamon-y and perfect.

And Eddie had a fever. Maybe he didn’t even know what he was saying. Maybe he didn’t even mean it.

“He’s your best friend,” Maddie says when Buck caves under the pressure of sisterly prying (and three or four glasses of cheap Chardonnay). “Of course he loves you.”

“Exactly,” Buck bemoans.

Maddie tilts her head, confused. Unlike Buck, she is completely sober, sipping slowly at a glass of sparkling apple juice. “Do you… not want him to love you? You’re not making a lot of sense, Evan.”

In true sibling fashion, she somehow manages to hit that balance of both gentle and _you’re an idiot_ with her tone.

“I don’t know,” Buck says. Then he stops, shaking his head. No, he does know. He just doesn’t know how to make it make sense. “Of course I want him to love me. He’s my—he’s my best friend, okay? And I love him too. I just… I think I _love_ him and I don’t know if he… I don’t know if he loves me.”

Maddie takes away his wine glass and holds his hands instead. “Do you want my advice?”

“Is it going to be good advice?”

“Talk to him,” Maddie says—the same advice Buck didn’t follow two months ago. “The only way you’re going to know is if you ask, right? Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?”

—//—

The worst that could happen is obviously Eddie feeling awkward and uncomfortable with the confession and cutting Buck out of his life and maybe packing up Christopher and moving somewhere far, far away. Like Alaska. Or Australia. Or Antarctica.

Or the Andromeda Galaxy.

Just because Eddie is into guys—and Buck is like, 99.9% sure about that, unless Eddie was joking when he said the barista at the café around the corner was cute—it does not mean that Eddie is into Buck. Buck isn’t going to fuck up the best thing that has ever happened to him on a hunch—especially not someone else’s hunch.

No. No, Eddie loves him like a friend and Buck can live with that. Buck is more than happy to live with that. He knows all about the seven types of love and just because he feels several of them for Eddie, doesn’t mean he’s not okay only getting one in return. They might be different, but that doesn’t mean they’re not equal. What’s important is that Eddie loves him. That’s more than enough.

—//—

It all comes to a head when Buck loses his phone. Not _loses_ loses, it must be around somewhere, he just sat it down and can’t remember where, and now his shift is over and he’s dead tired but he can’t go home without his phone so he’s desperately overturning couch cushions without any luck.

Eddie, of course, comes to his rescue.

“Hang on,” he says, fishing his own phone out of his pocket. “Let me try calling it.”

The phone is on silent, but if they listen really hard they should be able to hear the buzzing—

It takes three tries, stopping to stand still in various parts of the firehouse, but they find it. _Eddie_ finds it. He gives a triumphant shout from the bunk room and Buck ducks eagerly inside to see him proudly plucking the phone out from under the bunk where it must have fallen while Buck was napping earlier.

“Oh thank god,” Bucks says fervently.

The phone is still ringing in Eddie’s hand. With a call _from_ Eddie. And it suddenly occurs to Buck that, even though it has been several months, Eddie has never had a reason to see his own contact name in Buck’s phone. The moment stretches out, suddenly and inescapably awkward. Then, before Buck can work himself up into a true panic, Eddie laughs, soft and unexpected, like he didn’t quite mean to.

“ _Oh_.” It’s the tone of dots connecting, puzzle pieces fitting together, the last few pages of a mystery novel where you put all the clues together right before the big reveal. “So _that’s_ why Hen and Chimney keep making comments about us. You know, they’re really not as subtle as they think they are.”

Buck is pretty sure his face is bright pink. “Um. Sorry?”

Eddie is grinning at him, amused and… delighted? Pleased? Come to think of it, his cheeks look a little pink too.

“It’s okay, Buck.” He steps closer; far closer than he needs to be to hand over Buck’s phone. “I don’t mind.”

Buck’s eyes flick down to Eddie’s lips. Eddie’s tongue darts out, licking them, which is—Buck’s gaze snaps back up to Eddie’s eyes. Yeah, he definitely didn’t misread that.

It’s probably a bad idea. They’re still in the station, for one thing, anyone could walk in at any time, but—the door is closed, they’re alone, and Buck has no more excuses left.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, heart fluttering in his chest. A part of him is still half expecting Eddie to hit him or pull away or—

Or nothing. Eddie is kissing him.

Holy fuck, Eddie is _kissing_ him.

It’s quick and chaste and when Eddie starts to pull back, Buck chases his lips. They’re dry, a little chapped, but fuck, if kissing Eddie is a drug, it’s one he never wants to stop taking. One taste and he’s hooked, desperate for more.

Eddie chuckles, putting a hand on his chest. “We’re at work.” The reminder is unwelcome. “You don’t want Bobby to walk in, do you?”

Buck considers. He doesn’t, not really, but kissing Eddie would definitely be worth getting caught.

Eddie shakes his head. He presses another quick kiss to the corner of Buck’s mouth—almost teasing, feather light and gone before Buck can even begin to enjoy it. “Come for dinner,” he says.

“Yeah,” Buck agrees quickly. “I’d love to.”

“Great.”

This time it is Buck who rocks forward, lips ghosting over Eddie’s lips before he steps back. It’s a promise of more. Much more. Buck grins.

“I’ll see you at home.”

—//—

Dinner is nice.

Kissing Eddie until their lips are swollen and tingling is even nicer. Buck wishes he didn’t need to breathe because then he wouldn’t ever have to stop. He resolves to do it as often as possible. As often as Eddie lets him.

Forever, if he can.

—//—

The messages comes through just as Buck is getting out of the shower the next morning.

 **Eds** 😘 **: [Image Attached]**

 **Eds** 😘 **: Now we match** 😉😘

Buck opens it, curious, and finds a screenshot of his contact name in Eddie’s phone. Eddie is one of those boring, practical people when it comes to contact names—Bobby is Bobby, Chimney is Chimney, Athena is Athena Grant—but that just makes Buck feel even more special because his name isn’t just Buck anymore; now it has a kiss emoji as well. He’s definitely grinning like an idiot as he types out a volley of messages in reply.

😘 😘

**Cute**

**Now the others are definitely going to know we’re together**

And he waits, still grinning, as the three bouncing dots resolve into Eddie’s reply: **Good.**

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are love 💛 And you can also find me on tumblr [here](https://renecdote.tumblr.com/).


End file.
